Sebastian’s steps faltered, and he cast a quick look over his shoulder at Remington, who fell a few steps behind.
“It’s embarrassing,” Sebastian muttered.
“It’s not who you are.”
Sebastian reached the top stair and snorted derisively. “Isn’t it?”
Remington followed him down a long hallway, passing by more of the frivolous shows of wealth he’d become accustomed to in his youth.
“You’re more than all of this.”
“I’m nothing without it,” Sebastian countered, shoving open a door.
Remington stepped up to Sebastian and looked down at the man who’d somehow dwarfed into a childlike version of himself in the blink of an eye. Remington looked into the room, finding his bags had been delivered, as Gene promised, and sat at the foot of the bed. He allowed himself to take in the rest of the room, realizing it was more than a guest room.
“This was your room?” he asked.
“My space.” Sebastian sighed, stepping backward into the hallway and leaving Remington in the room alone. “I’ll go talk to my brother and be back.”
“I’ll be waiting,” he said.
Sebastian looked up, the uncertainty and worry coloring his face like a shadow. Remington closed the space between them and pressed their mouths together again, kissing Sebastian with the same want and intensity from the back seat of the car. Sebastian whimpered against his lips, fingers walking their way up Remington’s chest and holding onto the ends of his loosened bow tie.
Remington kissed Sebastian with all the seriousness he deserved, spearing his tongue into the depths of Sebastian’s mouth until he kissed loose all the desperate concerns that had tangled themselves in Sebastian’s brain.
“I’m tired,” Sebastian admitted, breaking the kiss and resting his forehead against Remington’s shoulder, fingers still gripping the ends of his bow tie.
“I know,” he whispered against Sebastian’s mouth. “We’ll get through this together, okay?”
Sebastian gave him a reluctant nod and took a deep breath, stepping back. He tugged on Remington’s tie. The fabric slipped free from the collar of his shirt and Remington smiled as Sebastian shoved the crumbled material into his pocket. Sebastian’s mouth twitched into a smile that quickly fell away.
“What’s mine is yours,” Sebastian said, gesturing to the bedroom. “I’ll be right back.”
Sebastian turned, and Remington watched until he disappeared down the stairs. Remington closed the bedroom door behind him and gave himself a minute to catch a breath, and a longer minute to study the room. It reeked of money, the way kids’ bedrooms in houses like this often did, but Remington could easily pick out the bits of Sebastian in the midst of it all.
A blue striped comforter stretched across a king size mattress on a sturdy wooden frame. All of the furniture matched, of course. The bed, two nightstands, a dresser, desk, and bookshelf were scattered around the room. He sought them all out, rummaging through the drawers, seeking out hints and stories about the man he’d accidentally fallen in love with.
The nightstand yielded the expected results, producing a like new bottle of silicone lube, an old and empty bottle of KY, and a tube of lotion that looked like it had seen better days. Both containers sat on top of aPlayboymagazine, and Remington tried to imagine teenage Sebastian in his bedroom, jerking off to some big-titted blonde model before coming all over his sheets. He closed the drawer and checked the bookshelves, finding stacks of video game boxes, some DVDs, and all the mandatory reading for boys of their upbringing.
On the desk, Remington found abandoned notepads stacked with doodles of breasts and dicks, and he chuckled to himself, flipping through the pages of what had once been Sebastian’s philosophy homework. He could see Sebastian in the nooks and crannies of the room that hadn’t ever been entirely his. Remington’s room at his parents’ house was much the same. Bits and pieces and hints of the person Remington longed to be, all of it shrouded by the decorative expectations put upon him by his family and his name.
Being in Sebastian’s room, he could feel the weight of it all over again, and he was curious how Sebastian had survived the week living in the memory of his youth. No wonder Sebastian was presently a walking disaster. Remington didn’t want to think about what state of mind he’d be in after a week back in Chicago.
Propped against the back of the desk against the wall, Remington picked up a small white teddy bear and rolled the soft and fluffy toy around in his hands. It was old, he could tell. Unless someone had given it to Sebastian recently, which he doubted. But the bear was still soft and very clean. Whoever had given it to Sebastian must have been important. Remington set the bear where he’d found it just as the bedroom door opened, and Sebastian’s body filled the frame.
“Hey,” Remington greeted.
Sebastian took a step into the room and closed the door behind him.
“Hi.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” Sebastian tangled his fingers through his hair and scanned the room like it was a foreign country. “Better now that you’re here.”
“You could have called me,” he said. “I would have come.”
“You could have called me,” Sebastian said. “You could have offered.”
